


a kiss wouldn't be the end of the world

by KimberlyAnnHart



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, anyway jenny is a fucking mess, i feel robbed of a gay ship by bbc, i love the mistletoe cliche and so do you, just kiss her you fucking coward, seriously why weren't they gay, they stood under the mistletoe for an entire scene and didn't kiss, what bullshit is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:49:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyAnnHart/pseuds/KimberlyAnnHart
Summary: Trixie doesn't appreciate being rejected, especially under the mistletoe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> neither of these girls are straight and should've kissed at least once idk what you want from me

Despite the lack of eligible men in Nonnatus House (or any men at all), someone had clearly decided that it was worth hanging mistletoe above the telephone that Christmas. Either in case of any young man arriving unexpectedly, or just to watch anyone squirm while on duty during the holiday season. Cynthia theorized playfully, during lunch, that Trixie was no doubt the culprit, to which the blonde only giggled and waggled a finger teasingly. An entirely unconvincing way to deny all involvement – but one small nudge (very nearly a kick) under the table from Jenny, and an added glare, and she had dropped her cheeky facade to insist through and through that she didn't do it. 

Jenny wasn't entirely convinced. Her...partner, girlfriend, significant other – whatever title Trixie fancied, really – was a tiny bit infamous amongst her friends for being an _outrageous_ tease. Lounging dramatically across people's laps and winking over the rim of a drinking glass at others were certain specialties of hers. In the past year, Jenny had become more and more familiar with her astoundingly obvious flirting (that somehow, nobody caught onto), the extra special smiles and hand squeezes and, when nobody else was around, the sneakily stolen kisses in passing. 

She didn't dislike any of this, but she _hated_ being obvious. They were, after all, in a convent, and it suddenly felt like even the tiniest glance shared between them was being seen, judged and evaluated by unseen eyes. No doubt the result of many, _many_ months of hearing about how _He_ sees all. Nevertheless, Jenny was reserved and cautious and drew a very distinct line when it came to her affair with Trixie – a line which was being toed at by the strategically-placed mistletoe. 

But the blonde adamantly denied all knowledge of how it got there, and Jenny eventually had no choice but to believe her. Still, nobody ever made an effort to take it down, so it continued being a source of discomfort, if only for Jenny. 

It only became a problem when, early one morning as the brunette stood in the cramped room, looking over the latest book entries, she suddenly found someone invading her personal space. Her eyes flickered up and it came as absolutely no surprise that Trixie had taken it upon herself to stand closer than necessary – and she was only half-trying to act oblivious to the mistletoe hanging above their heads. If anything, the way her eyes were narrowed mischievously gave it away. 

"Did you need something?" Jenny was usually good at keeping an unwavering facade. 'Usually' being the operative term. However, when confronted with the possibility of something like a kiss, but also the threat of being caught, it was difficult to keep her voice from cracking. 

Trixie, meanwhile, was totally unfazed, and gave a light-hearted shrug, "Just checking on today’s house calls."

It was such a glaring lie. Mostly because the books weren't even open to those particular schedules, and yet no attempt to find them had been made. Trixie just stood there, so close their shoulders rested together, batting her eyelashes innocently. Moreover, it was important to know each other’s schedules, and she wasn’t scheduled for _any_ home visits today (an easy detail to remember, given that Jenny had felt only vaguely envious of her for it). Instead of trying to catch her out in her falsities, though, Jenny looked back down to the log entries. 

But her nervous silence only made Trixie feel more confident. 

"Is that all right with you, Nurse Lee?" She bit out every syllable, sounding only a little condescending as she smirked playfully. 

If the two of them knew anything it at all, it was that Jenny – no matter how many walls she'd built around herself – had a soft side. A year of hushed conversations and secret dates was more than enough to know that she was, and always would be, absolutely weak at the knees for clichés. And, as many trite little things as they'd gotten away with, they couldn't say sharing a kiss under the mistletoe had yet been one of them. 

So clearly, whether or not Trixie had actually been the one to put it up in such an inconvenient spot, she was using it to her advantage regardless. 

But on top of being hopeless for everything she pretended to gag at, Jenny was still incredibly wary. She raised her head properly this time, watching as Trixie lifted a sharp eyebrow in anticipation. While her mind started weighing up whether she should or shouldn't, and her heart stammered every time she thought she might allow herself to lean in, her ears were straining to hear the faintest tell of footsteps nearing closer.

It was incredibly early in the morning. But Nonnatus House was old and structurally unsound (though they all argued otherwise), and the floorboards made too many creaks and groans for Jenny to feel entirely secure kissing Trixie out in the open. When it came to self-control, and the ability to be conscious of who else might be around while being totally lost in one another, she didn't hold a lot of trust in either of them. Feeling it was better to be safe than sorry, she slid the roster across the bench and stepped away. 

"Of course not." She tried to play it all off with a smirk of her own. But she wasn't exactly the playful or teasing type; afraid she was still too obviously nervous, she all but scrambled out of the room before Trixie could close the gap again. 

* * * * *

"You've got _some nerve_ , Jennifer Lee." 

The nurse in question jumped, nearly dropping her bike on its side. Meekly peering over her shoulder, she saw the voice's owner standing with her hands on her hips, pouting so excessively that even her blonde curls seemed to glare in disapproval. 

For a moment, Jenny could only gape in response. It was mid-morning; their little incident by the telephone had been a good number of hours ago now. And...admittedly, she'd been avoiding that room while Trixie was in it ever since – a lot easier, when others were awake and in need of them for something. 

"...I-I'm sorry?" she croaked, finally finding her voice. Trixie approached her and her bike in a way that could only be described as _flouncing_ , looking no less annoyed. 

"You've been avoiding me," she accused, "All morning I've tried to talk to you, and every time you've just run into the next room. And now –" She pulled herself up onto the seat of Jenny's bike, forcing its owner to tighten her grip on the frame to stop everything from toppling sideways. "– you've practically flown out the door the minute you could leave to make home visits."

Jenny suddenly felt very small and very sheepish. It wasn't exactly untrue. She was terrible at every aspect of romance, when she put too much thought into it. And she _always_ put too much thought into it. So it was a little hard to look Trixie in the eye, much less talk to her, when her heart was still hammering from the mere possibility that they could've kissed. 

Still, she felt awful about it. 

But Trixie had dropped her scowl and was now giggling, arms draping over the brunette's shoulders. "Ignored and neglected by my own girlfriend," she sighed dramatically, "Left to wallow in my loneliness, emotionally unfulfilled. People will start to talk, you know..."

She nodded solemnly, as if they were a proper married couple held to the same standards as every other. Jenny couldn't help but grin at the expression of mock-seriousness staring back at her. 

"You're absolutely right," she said with her own over-theatrical tone, trying to keep a straight face despite not even being half the actress Trixie was, "I've been crude and selfish and I don't know if I can ever make up for my callous actions." 

Trixie snorted and rolled her eyes. But she raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend knowingly, as if she'd counted on such a comment. Keeping her right arm wound over Jenny's shoulder, she pulled back her left to show the mistletoe pinched delicately between her thumb and index finger. Jenny stared, mind-boggled for a moment, the thought that it was clearly hidden up Trixie's cardigan sleeve not coming to her immediately. 

When it did, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or roll her eyes. 

"Someone will see us," she said. 

"Who? Nobody's around." Her eyes scanned over the surrounding courtyard, and Jenny's followed. There was, in fact, nobody in sight. 

"You've kissed me loads of times," she continued, "It isn't the end of the world, silly."

Jenny sighed heavily. That was true, but it was hard not to be on edge, especially around such festive times. Trixie knew that, hence why she initiated most things; without her confidence, no matter how over the top, they probably wouldn't have worked in a million years.

"I guess not..." she murmured. She knew she was being ridiculous. But sometimes affection was like jumping into cold water: it took her ages to mentally prepare herself, even when she knew she'd be fine, that she'd enjoy it. And it was loads easier when someone else held her hand and jumped in too. 

Her nerves weren't lost on Trixie. Slender fingers delicately played with the hair at the back of her head, and she felt giddiness bubble in her chest as the girl on the bike leaned in to kiss her. 

They'd kissed so many times before, but given their living situations, it was hardly frequent. Jenny resented it, but now more so than ever. It was hard to think that the taste of lipstick and cigarette smoke was a lovely combination, and one she could find herself missing. But clearly, Trixie had proved her wrong. She pulled herself closer to the other girl, trying to commit the exact detail of every sensation to memory (she never could), while also trying to concentrate on keeping her bike upright. 

It never ceased to amaze her that kisses like these could make everything feel right again, and yet just minutes ago she'd been shying away from it. They made her feel like she'd been so starved for affection before Trixie; nobody else had ever played with her hair, or rubbed tiny circles against her back, or smiled into her kiss and made her feel, with very little effort, like they appreciated every moment. Trixie was so...loving, without even trying – her left hand, now tired of holding the mistletoe above their heads, instead cupped her cheek gently. Once made entirely uncomfortable by anyone touching her face, Jenny was still surprised that she never once flinched away from the gesture when it was Trixie’s hand and instead felt, once again, like she'd been missing out her whole life. 

"We're pushing it," she murmured when she, finally, pulled back for air. They rarely let moments of affection – at least, affection that couldn't be easily explained as anything other than romance – stray for too long. Standing outside where anybody could walk past, and allowing themselves to lose track of time, was definitely considered 'too long'. 

Pouting a little, Jenny turned her head and kissed the palm of Trixie's hand. Her face was burning, and she only hoped that five minutes of riding through the brisk morning air would be enough time for her cheeks to return to their normal color. Trixie, however, was as red as their cardigans and had a much shorter trip to make back inside. Sighing, looking a little dreamy, she slid off the bike seat and pocketed the mistletoe. 

"You went to a lot of effort just for a kiss," Jenny breathed. Trixie blinked back at her knowingly. Without a doubt, it'd been worth it. 

"Actually," she smiled, reaching into her other pocket and retrieving a familiar pair of black woollen gloves, "You left so quickly, you forgot to put these on. I thought I'd save you the pain of frozen fingers."

Jenny sighed gratefully and took her gloves, letting Trixie help her slip them onto her hands. She exchanged the assistance for another kiss – much, much shorter than the one before it, but no less enjoyed by either of them.


End file.
